


Oh Little Jailbird

by GayParadox



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: AU, Amputation, Gay, Illness, Jamison Fawkes - Freeform, Junkhog, Junkrat x Roadhog, M/M, NSFW, Overwatch - Freeform, Roadhog x Junkrat - Freeform, Violence, bareback, guard x prisoner, mako rutledge - Freeform, roadrat - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-01
Updated: 2017-12-21
Packaged: 2018-10-13 14:03:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 19
Words: 21,269
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10515240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GayParadox/pseuds/GayParadox
Summary: *ONGOING*My first ever fanfiction, and I decided to go with RoadRat!This is a sort of medieval AU with a guard x prisoner theme, and there is quite a bit of reading involved. I've broken it up in chapters and built up to more intense scenes, such as the NSFW scenes. This is still a work in progress, and is not fully mapped out, so it may take some time to finish. But I will keep the chapters updated.Jamison Fawkes is living in a small town surrounded by neighbors who dislike him and call him paranoid or crazy, believing him to be dangerous, which he proves to be. After an unforeseen incident, Jamie is tossed into the dungeons under the supervision of Mako Rutledge. Jamison has lost his chance to simply escape because this giant of a man will stop him, and must convince Mako to help him.But Mako's help and his own freedom come with costs to be paid down the road. They become wanted fugitives who face not only the risk of capture, but must also face rough terrain when unable to bunk down in a city. Evading capture, facing illness and injury, enjoying what few opportunities for pleasure they can afford to take. What lies in store for the two criminals on the run?





	1. Chapter 1

It was unusually quiet around the outskirts of town, something that was noticeably strange to some. Those who found it odd were the people who lived closest to a man named Jamison Fawkes; he was a strange and reclusive man - to put it gently - who hated being addressed by his full name Jamison. For whatever reason, he had always preferred Jamie. Perhaps some unusual dislike of formality. Even with his preference to be called Jamie, the townspeople had an entirely different nickname for him that they used behind his back; it was courtesy of his unusual and questionable behavior, the nickname "Rat." Jamison knew of this 'pet name', of course, and he was actually rather fond of it despite the negativity that was intended. In his eyes it was almost a compliment. Rats were quick and clever, and hey, they were cute too!

At first glance, Jamison was hardly as intimidating as he was made out to be by his 'paranoid' neighbors. Standing at 6'6" was really the only thing that gave him a noticeable presence, but he wasn't exactly built like a brick wall; his frame was slim with subtle musculature, making him appear to be skilled at running or perhaps climbing - but certainly not made for physical confrontation. There was a somewhat angular shape to his facial features, most noticeable in his jawline and chin, even his cheekbones. Dirty blond hair had been lazily combed back away from his face, probably in need of a wash upon closer inspection. Yet it was his eyes that stood out the most: they were a beautiful golden brown that contrasted against his pale complexion. At only 25 years of age - and he was fairly attractive - yet he had such a notorious reputation. What was it about this man that made people so weary of him?

Normally, his routine consisted of sitting outside of his cozy cottage on a wooden bench, providing him with a good view of the path that lead to his home. It couldn't be seen at first glance, but his property was riddled with traps; there were bear traps, hidden rope triggers that would bring a spiked piece of wood falling from the trees, there were also hidden pits in the ground. But his most ingenious creation was something considered ahead of his time - that being a type of explosive - made with a sealed container, flour, and a candle; it could easily set someone ablaze if they were too close when they set it off. Paranoia would be the first thing to come to anyone's mind upon seeing this.

This would be enough to make anyone weary of him and yet that still wasn't all that kept people at bay. It was also that look in his eye, every day that he sat there; just watching and waiting for someone to be brave enough to trespass on his land, to try to find the "treasure" that he was rumored to have. His gaze was often described as crazed, even predatory. It had been this way ever since he moved into town five or six years ago. Rumors of his 'treasure' had been circulating ever since the townsfolk had realized that he questionably well-off compared to most people. Some even wondered if he was the bastard son of some noble family, or maybe he was run-away royalty. Whatever it was that stirred the tall tales had no exact source, but it still gave foolish young adults the gall to trespass and try to locate this supposed treasure.

\--

  
"Gettin' late, ain't it?" he sighed, looking up at the now star-riddled night sky. "Guess the curious buggers decided to stay away today. An' here I was hopin' for something fun today." Shrugging as he stood up to head inside, setting in place a series of complex locks on his front door.

The interior of his cottage wasn't overly spacious, but it was rather messy. The place had a few different workbenches placed around, and each one was scattered with the materials he used for his traps and creations, along with several candles. In the cramped, kitchen-esque area there was a small stockpile of food that was easy to grab and go, such as fruit, loaves of bread, and a variety of cheeses. Jamison could never be bothered to prepare an actual meal, and perhaps this is what lead to his thinner build, but in his mind he had much more productive things to do rather than cook.

Jamison had sauntered over to grab an apple - which he all but literally inhaled - and headed over to his largest workbench where he lit several of the candles that had been sealed to it with melted wax. For hours he stood there, tinkering and working on his contraptions without a care for the time of night; such was his nightly routine while he waited for someone to come poking around, and that's exactly what happened. His impressive concentration was broken only when there was a metallic 'snap' outside, and a pained yowling that sounded more like a wounded animal than a human. But the grin that spread across Jamison's face was one of malicious excitement as he abandoned what he was working on for the time being, breezing through the series of locks on his door before he yanked it open. Greeted by a cool breeze of the night air and the sounds of whimpering, Jamison turned to follow the sounds; knowing very well that those were the sounds of a person having fallen prey to one of his infamous contraptions.

"I'm getting out of here!" Came a second voice, much less pained than the one who'd been howling like a injured dog.

"Don't leave me here, Rat will kill me!" Pleaded the injured male.

Whoever the second male had been, he evidently didn't get far in the process of abandoning his friend when Jamison heard the rustling of leaves and a startled yelp. Whoever the second trespasser was, he had fallen victim to one of the hidden pits that had been dug in the ground. Each of these pits was nearly six feet deep and about five feet wide, concealed by a large piece of cloth nailed in the ground and covered with twigs and leaves to blend in. A suspicious silence followed the sound of the man falling, and Jamison knew it couldn't be good . Narrowing his eyes for a moment, Jamison first sought out the man who'd gotten his leg caught in one of many bear traps and was trying desperately to get it off of his crunched and bloody leg. A young man who just within the threshold of adulthood was confined to the ground before him, gawking up at Jamison in horror.

"Well, take a look at this!" he exclaimed, wearing that same unsettling grin as he stood over the man. "Looks like I got some fresh faces one me property," he stated. "An' here I thought I wasn't gonna get anyone tonight, but ya' just couldn't help it, could ya'?" he grinned. "Been listenin' to too much gossip, kid. I've got no treasure for ya' bastards to come steal." he shrugged.

"P-Please, don't hurt us! We don't wanna die for this!" the male whimpered.

"Oh shut your trap, will ya'? Ya' make me sound like some mad nob who hunts like a wolf during a full moon. Bunch'a tall-tale garbage." he grunted in response to the male pleading for his life. "Just stay put while I go an' check on your mate," he sighed as he proceeded in the direction that he'd heard the other male run to.

Jamison had been right about which trap the young man had fallen into it, but it wasn't a bruised and dazed kid that he found at the bottom of the pit. Instead what he found was a young man who lay motionless at the bottom of the pit, his head resting at an awkward angle on a large rock. Even in the dim light coming from the moon, Jamison could see a dark liquid slowly coating the rock beneath the young man's head. This was just what he needed, an accidental death on his property that he knew he'd be blamed for. Yet another reason for his neighbors and everyone else - to fear and hate him. A groan left his lips as he rubbed the back of his neck, mulling over what he was going to do with the body. But that thought process was cut short when he heard another rustling from the direction he'd left the other kid, and the sound moved further and further off before he heard the kid shouting for help. Having managed to get free of the bear trap, he had hobbled and hopped his way off of Jamison's property, and alerted anyone who could hear him.

"This should be good." he sighed.


	2. Chapter 2

"Well ain't this just beautiful!" Jamison grumbled, looking down at the dead man in disdain. "We both know what they're gonna think." he sneered, speaking as though the man were still alive and listening to his complaints.

"They've been waitin', and watchin', for me to slip up! And then you have to go and get your arse killed on me property!" he hissed, trying to keep his voice down for the time being.

For a good five or so minutes, Jamison simply paced and grumbled to himself about what he was going to do. But what could he do, really? His property would be crawling with the town guard soon enough and he'd be dragged off, but he didn't know what fate he would meet. Exile? Imprisoned for life? Or worse, execution? He groaned at the thought and ran a hand over his messy mop of blond hair. No one would believe that this was an accident, not coming from him. After all, who would miss "Rat" the paranoid recluse?

However, it wasn't as if he didn't know how to dispose of a body. Oh yes, he'd done it before. There was a reason he had so much wealth stashed away without having an official job. When you dispose of the right people, at the right time, then you know how to make a good amount of money. Not to mention the fact that his particular set of skills led him to being hired for installing 'security systems' for smugglers, or disposing of bodies for other, more violent people. But on this particular occasion, he didn't exactly have enough to get rid of a body, or hunt down a witness who had already alerted the entire town.

"Fawkes! Step away from the hole!" The demand came from behind him, having finally been found.

"Ya arse-lickin' sword humpers," Jamison grunted under his breath, slowly stepping away from the pit that conveniently looked like a grave.

Turning to face the group of guards that had carefully maneuvered around his traps, he found himself face-to-face with drawn swords. There were three of them standing before him with their weapons pointed at him, and two more snaked past him to see what had happened. Confirming to their comrades that there was a body lying at the bottom of the pit, earning some sneers from the others that were directed at Jamison.

"Well, well, 'Rat.' Looks like you finally went too far, didnt you?" One of them jeered, while the other two stepped forward to roughly apprehend Jamison by his arms, shackling his wrists together in front of him.

"C'mon, fellas. Do ya' really think I'd kill someone?" Rat chuckled nervously. "The two kids came sneaking onto me property - they were trespassing, mind ya! - and then that poor sod fell into one of me traps!" he explained in vain, because it was evident that they didn't believe him.

That was it then. He was going to be dragged off and shackled in a jail cell. That wasn't exactly what he was upset about, though. Getting out of a prison was a pain in the arse but it could be done, especially by someone like him. It was the fact that he would now have to gather up his stashes and few precious belongings and skip town again, to start over for a third time. There was a reason he lived alone, after all, and it wasn't just because he enjoyed the solace of it. That cozy little cottage that he had called home for the past several years would now have to be abandoned; which was a shame, really, because he had grown fond of living as the town pariah.

"Search his home while we take him to the dungeons." One of the guards, presumably a higher-up, barked at a couple of the others.

"Maybe we'll find the crazy Rat's treasure," One of them jeered.

"Or maybe we'll just find more bodies." The other grunted, as the two kicked in the door to his house without a care.

Jamison was helpless to watch as the guards went rummaging around through his things, though he seemed more annoyed than worried. After all, he kept his valuables sealed up tight where only he could find them, and only he could get past the preemptive measures he'd taken when hiding them. With a disgruntled grumble, Jamison was hauled away from his property, from his home, to be tossed into the dungeons. All the while the townsfolk watched in fear and disgust, gawking at the so-called murderer as he was taken to the dungeons, to meet whatever fate lay in store for him.


	3. Chapter 3

Inside the dungeons it was cold and damp, dimly lit by torches on the walls, and candles in the cells themselves. Considering the eerie lack of sound -save for the crackling of the torches - Jamison knew that he was likely the only prisoner at the moment, though that wasn't likely to change. Ol' "Rat" was the only one who ever got in trouble with the town guard, after all. He was likely going to be tossed into a cell and forgotten, or so the guards planned. A fair trial wouldn't await him in a few days like it should, and his pleas of - albeit partial - innocence would fall on deaf ears. Yet he didn't plan on sticking around long enough to find out exactly what did await him if not a trial.

Who did they take him for? Some kind of submissive and law-abiding citizen? Hardly. He'd be out of this place by dawn if all went well, and then he could grab his stashes and high-tail it out of town.

"Let's see what surprises you've got on you, Rat." His escort mused, giving him a push against the wall, face-first.

Jamison bumped against the wall with a grunt, grumbling more obscenities under his breath, while the guard began frisking him. It wasn't gentle, either, but he wasn't exactly expecting it to be. Gloved hands man-handled his limbs and his clothing, searching him for any hidden weapons or anything that could be used to his advantage. He wasn't entirely sure what they were expecting to find, he didn't exactly carry a small arsenal with him at all times.       

"Looks like you're clean." He grunted in satisfaction, pulling Jamison away from the wall by the back of his shirt.

He was lead to the end of a row of cells, to the very last one where the door opened with a creak. Inside it was messy and damp, with an old cot that hadn't been cleaned in quite a while; coated with dirt and leaves, along with whatever other debris that had blown. A tiny window sat just below the ceiling, large enough to let in some light and fresh air but not enough to escape through; it was still barred off, naturally, but it was better than nothing. A scowl made itself at home on Jamison's face as he glanced around, before the guard roughly turned him to face him again in order to remove the iron shackles around his wrists.

"In you go, Rat. Welcome to your new home." He sneered, shoving Jamison into the cell and locking the door behind him.

The push caused him to stumble backward and throw him off balance, causing him to lose his footing. Toppling to the cold, hard ground with a loud grunt, Jamison winced and shook his head slightly before he sat up on his knees. He was about to stand but something caught his attention.

There were voices at the other end of the cell row, two of them, and one of them sounded very out of place.

This voice was deep, deeper than any Jamison had heard before, it certainly wasn't from any of the guards that he'd encountered - and he'd had run-ins with nearly all of them.

"You're the best we have down here, Mako. Just keep an eye on the man, make sure he doesn't get out of there. He may be as crazy as they come but the man is a genius." One of them explained.

"As long as I'm paid, I don't care who he is." Came the deeper voice, who Jamison had heard addressed as Mako.

The conversation was brief, and primarily one-sided since Mako clearly didn't have much to say. Footsteps followed afterward, one set fading off, while the heavier set came closer. Scrambling up to his feet, Jamison waited, listening, as this Mako person made his way towards his cell. He wanted to see who the deep voice and heavy footsteps belonged to, wanting to see who he would have to contend with if he wanted to get out of here.

Mako never set foot directly in front of his cell, though, not once did he even look in to see who he had to keep tabs on. But Jamison's curiosity was piqued and there was no backing down, so he inched to the far side of his cell as quietly as he could manage, until the man came into view through the bars. What he saw nearly made him shout something obscene out of sheer shock, but instead he took a deep breath to keep his mouth shut as his eyes widened.

Mako was a damned giant, and Jamison knew that now he had his work cut out for him.

Standing at over seven feet tall and built like a walking wrecking ball, it was clear that this man was a force to be feared. Huge arms hung at his side with the hands to match, along with a broad torso and fairly large gut. Through the somewhat obscured view that Jamison had of Mako's face, he determined that he had to be in his 40's. Shoulder-length white hair was pulled up into a ponytail that stuck out, and his face was noticeably scruffy. And something must've soured this man's day because he did not look happy.

"What are _you_ lookin' at?" Mako growled, finally turning to meet Jamison's gaze with his dark hazel eyes.

It was evident that he was looking into the eyes of someone far more dangerous than himself.


	4. Chapter 4

"Lookin' at a damn giant is what I'm lookin' at, mate. Where the hell did they find someone like you?" Jamison asked.

"Not around here." Mako grunted.

"Well thats for damn sure, mate. Ain't ever seen anyone like you in these parts, or anywhere I've been for that matter." he remarked.

"Then you clearly haven't been very far." Mako mused.

"Been far enough to know me way around," he objected.

The back-and-forth banter continued for a couple more minutes before Jamison finally settled down, realizing he wasn't going to get much information out of the beast of a man. For whatever reason, Mako didn't seem fazed by Jamison's presence; he didn't come off as intimidated or paranoid just being near him. If anything the man seemed pretty bored, perhaps a little annoyed, too. Mako just stood there, staring forward at the wall with a deadpan look on his face, paying Jamison's staring no mind.

"Ya' seem like you're in a bit of a rut, mate." Jamison grinned as he sat himself down in the corner of his cell, leaning against the wall and the bars.

He received nothing more than a wordless grunt in response.

"I get it, I get it. Ya' have a job to do. Damn boring one at that, too." he sighed. "After all, who wants to be charged with watching lil' ol' me?"

Jamison twitched when he still got nothing in response from Mako.

"Ya' know, I don't think any of 'em would notice if ya' took a break, leave Jamie here to his thoughts." he mused. "It ain't like I can get outta' here, after all."

"You think I'm stupid?" Mako finally asked, glaring over at Jamison with those intense eyes.

"Course not, mate!" Jamison held his hands up with a chuckle. "Just sayin' that someone like you oughtta' be out doin' somethin' better with your time."

"You aren't getting out of here." Mako growled.

It was becoming more and more clear that Jamison wasn't getting anywhere with this fellow, that there would be no convincing him to turn his back long enough for Jamison to escape. Even if Mako was clearly unhappy with his job, it was evident that he still wouldn't slack off. Perhaps he'd need to up the ante a little, see what would pique Mako's interest the most. Jamison chewed his bottom lip in thought before he spoke up again.

"So.. just where are ya' from, exactly?" Jamison asked.

"Overseas." Came the flat response.

"And what are ya' doin' all the way out here, in the middle of nowhere?" he inquired.

"Recruited by mercenaries. Now I work here. Costs too much to go home." Mako's explanation was brief, but it gave Jamison the leverage he needed.

Costs too much to go home, does it? Thankfully for Jamison, he had just the remedy for that predicament and hopefully that could convince Mako to help him out a little. He stood no chance of trying to sneak out and get past the brute, but perhaps Mako could be.. persuaded to show some mercy on him.

"Well, mate, if goin' home is what ya' want.. Little Jamie here may have somethin' to help ya' out. There's a reason I ain't got a job but still live well," he grinned.

Jamison's suggestion was greeted with the reaction he was hoping for, to a degree. Mako's gaze turned to him again, his eyes narrowed slightly, as he showed the slightest interest in Jamison's proposal. There was a drawn out moment of silence as Mako watched Jamison like a hawk, watching for any sign that he was lying to him. Yet Jamison didn't slip up, he didn't laugh or twitch.

"What do you have?" Mako finally asked. "Let me guess. The 'treasure' that everyone talks about?" he shook his head.

"Listenin' to the gossip, 'ey?" Jamison rolled his eyes. "Well I'm tellin' ya' mate, I've got enough stashed away to pay for your trip and more," he declared.

"Right. And I have a pet shark." Mako grumbled.

"Oi, ya' pot-bellied behemoth, I'm tellin' the truth!" he spat. "I can get ya' back home if ya' just let me outta' here. I'll give ya' one of me stashes if ya' come with me." he offered, trying to keep his cool.

"What did I just say? You're not getting out of here." he narrowed his eyes. "You'd run as soon as you got out like the rat you are, no one would be paid a thing."

"There's no pushin' a rock like you, is there?" he scowled. "Suit yerself, mate. But I don't plan on dyin' in here."

Though far from accepting defeat, Jamison did at least quiet down for the time being. He needed time to think, to get a put together that he could use to get out of here. Convincing Mako to help him out wasn't going as well as he'd hope, but perhaps with continuous pushing, albeit more gentle, then Mako might just give him a hand.


	5. Chapter 5

Two entire days had been spent in the grimy dungeon cell that Jamison had originally been tossed to - or was it three? - and he was already losing track of time. Jamison had only been able to track the passage of time through the tiny, barred off window, but even that was difficult with the weather outside. Nothing but clouds and off-and-on rain, with the excess water outside draining into his cell along with some of the others. Below his bare feet the stone floor was now wet and colder than before, yet it felt refreshing against his dry, rough feet.

All this time and he'd only been fed twice, given whatever was left over of the guards' nightly dinner. Jamison was thin as it was and normally didn't eat much to begin with, yet he found his stomach paining for want of food. Yet Mako hadn't once left his post. He would be brought food, sit down on the ground where he normally stood, and eat there, which is what he was currently doing. Jamison on the other hand, was sitting cross-legged on the dinged-up cot that he had attempted to clean off. He'd spent plenty of time trying to talk to and convince Mako of helping him, still urging him to take him to his stash so he could pay him, but Mako was steadfast in his refusal.

Jamison had been quiet for hours now, seeming rather crestfallen about his current situation. If it wasn't for Mako, he'd already be out of this dungeon cell and off into another town where no one would know who he was. He was holding his grumbling stomach with a soft scowl on his face, staring off at the wall across from him, unaware that Mako was watching him out of the corner of his eye. Mako glanced down at the plate in his hands, at the hot meal he was eating while Jamison had received nothing that night. Growling under his breath when he set the plate down and pushed it under the small gap between the cell door and the floor. It was time he find out when he could stop babysitting and when Jamison would finally figure out what was going to happen to him.

"Eat. And don't try anything." Mako ordered as he stood up, grunting as he pushed himself up off the floor.

Mako's heavy footsteps faded off down the cell row and up a set of stairs, while Jamison wasted no time in scarfing down the food he was given.

"When is he getting his trial?" Mako asked once he had found the guard-captain, a prideful yet stern man who seemed to value power more than justice.

"Trial?" The man barked a laugh. "He's not getting a trial. Doesn't deserve one, honestly. Maybe he didn't kill that kid, maybe he did. Doesn't matter to me. For all I care, he can just stay down there and rot." The guard-captain sneered.

"Waiting for a man to die isn't my job." Mako growled.

"Well it is this time. But don't worry, Rutledge. He won't last long. I'm not sparing anymore food for a murderer." he shrugged.

Mako glowered down at the man without another word, which evidently made the man uncomfortable because it wasn't long before he was ordered back to his post. Sure, Mako may not have been the most sympathetic person around, but why should he have to stand by and watch a man die? For something that he possibly didn't do? Yet despite these thoughts, these concerns for Jamison's life, he wasn't about to go and throw his job away. Afterall, he'd be risking imprisonment or even execution for himself if he were to simply free Jamison.

"What's wrong, big guy? Did the food go through ya' too quick?" Jamison chimed in from his cell, finally speaking up after hours of silence.

"No. I wanted a drink." Mako grunted.

"Yet ya' came back empty handed?" he grinned. "Oh come on, mate. Were ya' in trouble or what?" he asked.

"No." he growled. "Don't poke your nose in my business."

"Now, now. No need to be so defensive, mate. I get it. Ya' don't want to admit when you get chewed out by the big boss." he snickered.

"I wasn't-" Mako stopped and took a breath, glaring into the cell as Jamison. "I asked about your trial." he finally admitted.

His answer caught Jamison by surprise, as he hadn't expected the man to give a damn about that; he figured Mako was content to get paid to just stand there and keep an eye on him. Yet it was the look on Mako's face that revealed even more, the tone of his voice, his whole dimeanor. Something was irking the man and Jamison had a feeling he knew what it was.

"It ain't good, is it?" Jamison sighed. "They gonna execute me?"

"Something like that." Mako shook his head and looked away.

In that moment, Jamison knew it was now or never, and stepped over to the cell door with a tinge of hesitation.

"Listen mate, I know you don't wanna hear anymore from me, but I need your help." he said quietly. "I didn't kill that kid but these sword-humpers got their heads crammed too far up their own arses to see it."

Mako turned to look at him, silent for now, showing that he would at least hear what Jamison had to say. Watching as Jamison dug around under his shirt, and withdrawing something from what must have been a hidden pocket, and he held up a small key for Mako to see.

"Maybe ya' won't take me to me stash myself, but I'm willin' to risk it and let ya' go get it on your own. If you get me stash and you're satisfied with the pay, then get me outta' here. We'll collect what I have left, skip town, and you can go back to your real home, mate. How does that sound?" he asked.

There was a painfully stretched moment where Mako said nothing, did nothing, in response to Jamison's offer. But then, finally, he reached through the cell door and took the key in his massive hand, holding it up for closer inspection after he had withdrawn his hand. If Jamison could trust what he was seeing, it appeared as if Mako was genuinely considering his offer before he turned back to face him.

"And what else will you give me?" he asked, narrowing his eyes a bit.

"The money ain't enough for ya'?!" Jamison asked in shock.

"I'm risking everything for this." Mako stated.

"Fine, fine! I'll uh.. I can.. give ya' a favor that'll shut me up." he hesitated. Taking a deep breath before he lookg up at Mako and met that intense hazel gaze of his. Jamison's hand slipped through the bars of the door and went for something quite unexpected.

Jamison's hand had slipped under the heavy leather coat that Mako wore, and had come to rest on Mako's crotch. His hand groped, gente but firm, as he tested the waters. It wouldn't be the first time he'd fooled around with a man and it definitely wouldn't be the last if he got out of here; and while this wasn't an ideal situation, it would have to do if he wanted Mako to cooperate. His only concern was that Mako, like most men around here, would be disgusted and refuse. Yet to Jamison's surprise, Mako's free hand suddenly moved down and squeezed Jamison's hand against his sizeable crotch.

"That part first, or no deal." Mako finally growled under his breath, still holding Jamison's much smaller hand in place.

And with that, Jamison knew what he'd have to do. Though despite the circumstances, he still felt a twinge of excitement in his groin at the thought of what he was going to do.


	6. Chapter 6

A long moment of silence had passed while Mako held Jamison's hand against his groin, and the growing warmth of it could be felt through Mako's pants. Jamison could tell the man was already getting excited at the idea just by the subtle way he would press into his hand more. After a couple more moments of this, though, Mako finally released Jamison's hand and allowed him to step back. In all honesty, Jamison was still pretty shocked that Mako had actually accepted this kind of bribe. Any other of guard probably would have lynched him on the spot for suggesting such a lewd thing.

And yet there he stood, watching as this man - who was easily three times his size - made short work of the pants that constrained his growing excitement. Though what Jamison saw had him more nervous than shocked at that point, because standing at full attention between Mako's legs was the girthiest piece of manhood that he'd seen before. Jamison found himself feeling somewhat inadequate for a moment before he remembered that this wasn't going to be a comparison; he had a task to do if he wanted to get out of here.

"Damn, big guy. Your cock is built as big as you are." Jamison huffed, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Get to work." Mako grunted, with impatience thickly lining his tone of voice.

"After you, mate. Gotta put yourself where I can get to ya'." he shrugged, stepping forward towards the bars.

Mako had taken only a brief look around, and listened. Based on the lack of sound from upstairs, he was safely guessing that the others were asleep or out on patrol. Stepping forward towards the bars once the coast was clear, and pressing his hefty gut against them and soon his pelvis too. In the meantime Jamison had already assumed the position by lowering himself to his knees on the cold, wet floor. Mako's cock could barely hold its own weight up even when fully erect, and Jamison was contemplating just how he was going to manage this.

Lifting his hand to take a hold of it, he could feel the twitching against his hand and the heat coming off of it, and he couldn't even wrap his fingers around the damn thing. Mako, however, had little patience for Jamison to prepare himself for this, as his hand soon reached through the bars and grabbed Jamison by the back of the hair. He found his head being pushed forward and the head of Mako's cock rubbed over his cheek, smearing pre-cum over his skin. But this was the only hint that Jamison needed before he opened his mouth and took the swollen head of Mako's cock into it, teasing his tongue against it with surprising skill. This earned a faint yet audible groan from Mako as he tried to press his hips forward a little more.

Moving his head slowly forward, slowly taking more into his mouth, Jamison wasted little time in giving Mako the alternate form of payment that he wanted in exchange for his freedom. More than half of Mako's cock had made it into Jamison's warm, wet mouth, that felt blissful after Mako's extended dry-spell since arriving in this dingy town. His sounds were either quiet or stifled, having surprising control over them while receiving this kind of skilled pleasure. All the while, as Jamison moved his head forward and back, Mako's hand was steadfast in keeping a hold of the back of his head, urging him on. Every now and then he would buck his hips gently, but it was starting to get somewhat rougher as a long-missed feeling began to build.

Jamison's tongue was working wonders against the shaft of his cock, and then the tip every time he pulled his head back. It was driving Mako wild, yet he still retained a surprising level of stamina. This had been drawn out for a good twenty minutes, and he was still going, though not for much longer. And while Mako had remained quiet, Jamison hadn't exactly done the same. The smaller male had a bulge of his own in his pants, which he had begun tending to while servicing Mako. His pants had been tugged down just enough to free up his own cock - not as impressive as Mako's, of course - but it wasn't exactly something to be ashamed of either. His free hand was stroking and squeezing gently, rubbing his thumb over the swollen head of it, which only caused him to muffle a few moans against the cock in his mouth.

With a hot and bothered Jamison having his mouth wrapped around his cock, Mako could only take the sight and feeling of it for so long before he felt like he would burst. The hand that was holding the back of Jamison's head suddenly pushed him forward and crammed the remaining couple inches of his cock into Jamison's throat. Barely managing to suppress his gag reflex and feeling a twinge of pain in his jaw, Jamison took it in stride. His hand squeezed around his own cock while Mako's twitched and soon spurted out its load into his throat, and yet Jamison soon found himself hitting that same feeling of cloud nine. Another moan was muffled against Mako's shaft as Jamison angled himself towards the floor when he hit his sweet release.

The two sat like that for a good minute or more as Mako caught his breath, keeping himself where he was, before he finally withdrew himself. It wasn't long before he had tucked himself back into his pants and stood there like nothing had happened, watching as Jamison caught his breath and wiped his mouth on his shirt. Shaking his head a little and grimacing, he tugged his pants back up and stood up, a little wobbly for a moment, before looking back up at Mako. Seeming unfazed by what he had just done, especially considering he got off while doing it.

"You satisfied, mate? Will ya' go get me stash and get me outta' here?" he asked.

"Fine. Tell me where it is." Mako growled.

"Right.. It's about twenty paces west from me property. There's a tree with three slashes, and there's a small chest buried there. That key'll disarm the trap I set it in, keep the damn thievin' bastards out of it." he huffed.

Mako looked at the key in his hand before glancing back over to Jamison, then groaned under his breath. He couldn't believe he was doing this.

"Don't try anything stupid." he said as he turned away.

All Jamison saw from there was Mako vanish from his view, and his footsteps then faded off down the hall. All that was left now was to wait.


	7. Chapter 7

Having barely managed to get out of the dungeons unnoticed, Mako had made his way outside to find this stash that Jamison had convinced him to retrieve and keep for himself, as payment to get the brat out of prison. There goes my job, he thought. He knew what would happen as soon as he got Jamison out of there - they'd point the finger at him and imprison him instead, regardless of whether or not he had intentionally freed the infamous Jamison Fawkes. Yet Jamison's offer still clung to the back of his mind.. The chance to go home was too much to pass up.

It remained to be seen as to whether or not that would happen, though. The thought did cross his mind that perhaps Jamison was doing this to lure him away, to give him a chance to escape. Yet servicing him earlier seemed like it would have been a bit much just to convince someone to leave. At this rate, there was only one way to find out, and he proceeded towards Jamison's trap-riddled property. Many of his contraptions had been removed or destroyed, his house turned upside town to find anything that was deemed worth taking. After his arrest, it was assumed that he would never be returning to his home, and so both guards and townsfolk alike had searched the place for his 'treasure', but also took anything else that they wanted.

Mako found the blatant disrespect to Jamison and his things to be apalling; just what had Jamison done to make these people hate him so? Everyone had heard the stories, about how paranoid and crazy he was, yet there were no stories of Jamison actually attacking anyone or proving to be genuinely dangerous. Traps riddled his land because of trespassers, and it was suddenly seemed unforgiveable.

Shaking his head after he surveyed the damage and havoc, Mako followed the directions that Jamison gave him and walked to the edge of his property, on the west side. Counting twenty paces as he headed further off, and sure enough, he found the tree that Jamison had mentioned. Three slash marks had been cut into the bark, and they looked like they'd been there a few years. Glancing around the bottom of the tree he soon found what he was looking for - a small gouge in the soil that served as the only sign of any disturbance. It took Mako only a couple minutes to dig down about a foot with his bare hands, and withdraw a small jewelry chest, locked tight.

Mako withdrew the key that Jamison had given him earlier and hesitated for a moment. What is Jamison had been lying about that, too? What if the trap would still go off and possible kill him? He thought about the risks for a few moments before he took a deep breath and slid the key into the lock, unlocking the chest with a soft 'click.'

Nothing happened, aside from the chest cracking open.

A sigh of relief came from him as he pulled the chest open, and saw the trap fastened to the interior of the lid. It consisted of two blades that would be triggered to snap together if the chest had been opened without a key, which could easily take off someone's hand. And Mako saw why when he looked inside; the chest was full of gold and silver coins, enough to buy him a passage home and more. He could start his life over with this money alone, and he chuckled to himself, wondering why he had doubted Jamison so much.

Where was home for Mako Rutledge, though? Where did this beast of a man come from? The answer plagued him every night when he slept, and he missed it every waking hour. Home was a series of islands not far from Australia, a land that his people called 'Aotearoa,' but the Europeans who had visited called it New Zealand. His people were the indigenous tribe known as Maori, and they all shared a physical stature similar to his own. Not a day went by that he regretted leaving, and now he had his chance to go home.

Closing the chest and locking it again, Mako then scooped it up off the ground and stashed it under his coat before he headed back towards the dungeons. Once again it was challenging to get back to his post unnoticed, where Jamison waited impatiently in his cell, but thankfully it was the dead of night. Just as Mako had doubted him, he had doubted Mako; he'd half expected the man to take his stash and make a run for it, to just leave him there to rot.

"Took you long enough, mate! You satisfied now, will ya' get me outta' here?" he asked, standing up off of his cot.

"How did you manage to get this much money?" Mako asked, dismissing his request to get out of his cell.

"There's more than that, big guy, but we'll worry 'bout that later. Just get me outta' here and let's go." Jamison hurried him.

"Fine, I'll get the keys." Mako grunted, heading to the end of the cell row again and grabbing the key ring that hung on the wall before he headed back to Jamison.

He sifted through the keys, until he found the one he needed, and unlocked the door to Jamison's cell, letting the impatient man out.

"Great, great, now let's get the hell outta' here before someone comes poking around. We still need to grab some of me things from the house." he said, looking back towards Mako. "I hope you've got a way to get me outta' here, mate." he said.

That's when Mako simply stared at him deadpan for a moment, before the realization hit them both. Neither of them knew how to they were going to get Jamison out of there unseen.


	8. Chapter 8

"Oi, I thought you'd at least have a plan to get me out of here before you agreed to my deal!" Jamison hissed.

"I thought you had a plan," Mako growled.

"I had.. a sort of plan, if I got out on me own." he grumbled, rubbing the back of his head. "Look, it wasn't a good plan, but it was a plan." he said. "But you've gotta get me outta' here, we have a deal! You've got one of me stashes!" he insisted.

"Be quiet! They'll hear you." Mako snarled.

"Then figure something out!" Jamison snapped.

In all honesty, Mako was ready to strangle this man in the few minutes that had transpired since letting him out of his cell. He rubbed the back of his neck and groaned under his breath, mulling over his very few options to get Jamison out of this place. The thought had crossed his mind to simply toss Jamison back into his cell and just leave with the money, but he couldn't bring himself to stoop so low. It was either get Jamison out of here, or they both faced jail time and possible execution. How could he sneak someone out of the dungeons unseen? Jamison was too easily noticed to simply dress him in the guards' uniform and walk him out, and they would want to examine the body if Mako claimed he had died.

But something did come to mind, albeit unusual, but it just might work.

"It's laundry day." Mako finally said. "And it's my turn to take it to the town cleaner."

"Laundry day..? What does that have to do with anything?!" Jamison asked in confusion and irritation.

"Just..! Just listen for a moment," he groaned. "We keep our laundry in a burlap bag, it's large. You'll fit inside it." he explained.

"Wait, wait, wait.. you want to stuff me into a sack, and just waltz outta' here?" he asked in disbelief.

"You have a better plan?" he asked.

Jamison narrowed his eyes for a moment but Mako was right; his strange plan just might work, and Jamison had no other ideas to suggest.

"Alright, alright, fine! Go get the sack and let's get this over with." he sighed.

"Just stay here, and don't do anything stupid." Mako huffed.

He turned and headed out of the dungeons and up to the barracks, where he went looking for the laundry bag. It was already fairly full with clothing from the guards, and it certainly didn't smell all that pleasant. Grimacing as he grabbed the bag and carried it off in one hand, quietly brushing past his sleeping comrades, heading back down into the dungeons where Jamison had been waiting, albeit impatiently. Mako dropped the bag onto the ground in front of Jamison, and reached in to rifle through some of the clothing and make space for him.

"Get in." he grunted.

"Oi, mate, your buddies sure know how to stink something up, don't they?" Jamison scowled at the bag.

"Just get in already." Mako ordered.

With an exasperated groan, Jamison stepped into the burlap sack of smelly clothing and nestled himself into the pile. Screwing up his face at the worsening smell and the dampness of some of the clothes on the top of the pile. Mako assisted in burying him within the clothing and lifted the sack with ease, carrying it over his shoulder. Unless you knew otherwise, you'd never guess that there was a person hiding in the bag, which allowed Mako to easily get Jamison past the guards in the barracks and get him outside.

Thankfully for them, the cleaner happened to live close to Jamison's property, one of his reluctant neighbors. But as Mako hauled the bag out of the barracks and started heading through town, he was stopped by one of his comrades.

"Oi, Mako, whatcha got there?" The man asked.

"Laundry. It's my turn." he said, keeping his answer short.

"This late? Ain't you supposed to watching Rat?" he asked.

"Taking my chance to get fresh air. Rat decided to mouth off one too many times, now he's out cold." Mako shrugged.

"Hah! Bet he regrets it now, 'ey?" The man laughed, shaking his head. "Go on, then, I won't keep ya'. Don't want you to be missing when Rat wakes up." he chuckled, waving Mako along as he went on his way.

"That's your excuse?!" Jamison growled from inside the bag.

"Quiet. You're lucky we didn't get caught." Mako grumbled, pressing on through town.

It wasn't long before they had finally reached Jamison's property, and after thoroughly glancing around for prying eyes, Mako set the bag of laundry down on the ground. Jamison was quick to squirm his way out from the pile of clothing and scowled again as he pulled a damp sock off of his shoulder, tossing it back into the bag. Shaking his head a few times, he quickly yanked his shirt off and balled it up, tossing it aside.

"Might as well cover your tracks, mate. Take the laundry to the lady next door. Don't worry your pretty head about me, I'm going to get what's left of my stuff." Jamison sighed.

While Jamison headed into his ransacked house, Mako was left outside with a bag of laundry and the thought of what he was doing. He was about to give up everything; his job, his home. But in the end, he'd be returning to his real home. With his concerns put more at ease, he grabbed the bag and headed over towards the neighbor's home.


	9. Chapter 9

While Mako had been off dropping off the laundry, appearing as if everything was normal, Jamison had walked into his now distaster of a home. His contraptions and other creations had been broken and scattered around, his clothing had been strewn about. They'd even taken most of his food, and raided every piece of storage he had. Jamison knew exactly what they were looking for, aside from anything else of value that they wanted; they were looking for his 'treasure,' but they wouldn't find it. The largest of his stashes had been hidden within his home, but he was maticulous with hiding it.

Still, despite being free from prison, he didn't seem happy. He was looking around his home with a look of resentment and heartache, seeing the state that his house was now in. This had been his home for years and he'd paid a pretty penny to have it built. So much time had been spent within those walls, tinkering and brainstorming, so many things that he had created and thought of. Despite being the pariah of the town, despite being so disliked and feared by his neighbors, he knew he would miss this place.

Having a home was such a hard thing to find for someone like him, for someone who was so.. different or strange, like he was. Having been shunned and cast out by his parents at the age of 15, he had been on his own for the past decade of his life, and the need to survive and thrive was what drove him to pick up his particular set of skills. He had to make his money somehow, afterall. His 'treasure' had been accumulated over the period of five years before he had moved into his current home, by working a very gruesome job.

Jamison's line of work consisted of disposing of bodies for well-paying 'clients;' it didn't matter who they were, why they'd taken someone's life, as long as they paid him to do the work then it would get done. But as an inventor, people also paid well for his contraptions and traps as well. Farmers, nobles, anyone who wanted to keep their land safe would buy these devices from him and have him set them up. But he had left that all behind, save for his inventions, and settled down here in town after he'd saved up a large sum of money to live off of. Rumors of his 'treasure' circulated after everyone had come to the realization that he was without a job, yet was still able to buy whatever he wanted.

But now? Now his money was the only thing he had left, and he'd just given away a decent amount of it to ensure his freedom. With a sigh, he stepped over some bits of broken glass and grabbed a leather bag that he could carry on his shoulders. Stuffing it with what was left of his food and clothing, before slipping on his remaining pair of boots. The only thing left was his remaining stash, the largest sum of his money, and the schematics of his various inventions.

As Jamison walked along the wooden floor of his home, he tapped his foot around a particular area until he heard a soft, metallic sound. Kneeling down on the floor, he reached down and carefully pried one of the smaller planks up, twisted it around three times, before it came unlatched from something beneath it. There was yet another trap that he had placed, protecting a satchel full of gold and silver, along with rolled up pieces of parchment that had his schematics and designs drawn on them. He fastened the bag around his waist and the larger one on his shoulders before he stepped outside, just as Mako was returning from dropping off the bag of laundry.

"You done yet?" Mako asked.

"You're not takin' anything?" he raised a brow.

"I can buy what I need in the next town. Let's go." he grunted, ushering Jamison along in a hurry.

Jamison glanced back at his home one last time, feeling a tinge of regret for what all had transpired. Maybe if he hadn't dug that hole, then that kid would still be alive. He wouldn't have gone to prison, he wouldn't have had to bribe Mako, and he wouldn't have to leave everything behind. Shaking his head and grumbling under his breath, he looked away and let Mako take the lead for now. They had to be discreet about making their way to the main path out of town, the one that would eventually lead them to the next town over. Thankfully Jamison lived on the outskirts of town already, so it wasn't too difficult to make their way out of town.

"So where do you plan on headin'?" Jamison asked.

"To find a ship and go home." Mako said flatly.

"At least ya' have a home to go back to." he huffed.

"You'll find something else." he grunted.

"Says you. We'll see about that, won't we?" he grumbled, looking up at the night sky as they walked.

No doubt a tough few days lay ahead of them, and they were just getting started.


	10. Chapter 10

For hours the two of them had walked, further and further away from their home town, and closer to the next one. Sunrise was approaching, and the horizon was slowly becoming a lighter shade of blue with touches of orange. It was pretty, but Jamison wasn't about to stop and admire the sights; not while there was still a possibility that their absence had been noticed and they were being searched for. The next town was still a few hours away, and they needed to press on and get out of public view for a little while.

As time ticked on - their legs and feet growing sore and their bellies rumbling for want of food - they started to notice that they weren't alone on the road. They had been passed by two different couriers going in opposite directions, and one travelling merchant that they were able to procure food from. The next town had finally come into view, just a couple miles off, and they knew it wouldn't be long now. Both of them were exhausted, from the hours and walking and the lack of sleep. Yet Jamison's mind wasn't focused on his desire to rest, his mind had wandered to what had taken place back in the dungeons.

He was wanting something to take his mind off of everything, something that would exhaust him further and make it easy for him to sleep for hours. Something that would also relieve the tension he felt, and make everything seem okay again for a short while. And he knew just the man who could do this for him, the man who could ruin him in bed without hesitation. He had already serviced Mako orally, who had been quite receptive to the idea and seemed to enjoy the act itself even more. Jamison couldn't imagine why he would turn down going a step further.

"Oi, Mako, I've got an idea for when we get a room at the tavern." Jamison finally piped up.

"Better be a good one." Mako replied.

"Oh you'll like this one, mate. Maybe." he shrugged. "I was thinkin', since you seemed to like my mouth so much, maybe you'd like me ass even more." he said bluntly, not bothering to beat around the bush.

Mako stopped dead in his tracks and turned to look at Jamison, watching for any sign that this was some kind of prank or joke.

"I'm not yankin' your leg, mate. I figure we both need the stress relief, eh?" he grinned.

"I hope you're prepared to not walk right." Mako growled in an almost predatory manner.

Jamison almost shivered at those words and bit his bottom lip with a grin, before he pressed on with a bit more enthusiasm.

Now that they had something to look forward to, time seemed to drag on slower than before, but they eventually reached their destination. Doing their best to avoid prying eyes as they walked through town, keeping their heads and clothing concealed as best they could with their cloaks. No one seemed to notice them, since this town sat on a bit of a crossroads, and travellers were always coming through. It didn't take long to find the well-kept tavern, though it was rather barren this early in the morning. There was a barkeep who was washing tankards and glasses, and then there was the innkeeper.

Knowing that Mako would draw too much attention, and the fact that he wasn't exactly friendly, Jamison decided that it was best if he did the talking. Motioning for Mako to just wait by one of the empty tables as he approached the innkeeper, reaching into his satchel to withdraw the money he'd need for a room.

"Need a room with two beds, mate." he said.

"I've got two rooms that each have one bed, we're pretty full at the moment." Came the reply from the man.

"Alright, alright, gimme the room with the biggest bed." he huffed, handing over the coins and taking the key that was handed to him.

Mako was quick to follow after that, his eyes wandering to Jamison's rear as the smaller male walked ahead of him up the stairs. There was a heat of excitement growing in his groin the more he thought about Jamison's proposition, and he was impatient to get started. Waiting in silence as Jamison got the door opened, they stepped into a decently sized room with two wooden dressers, a few candle-lit lamps, and a fairly large bed with fresh linens. Over the window, the curtains had been let down, minimizing the amount of natural light in the room, and keeping out any prying eyes.

While Jamison set his belongings down and carefully hid away his satchel of valuables, Mako had closed and locked the door. There was no hesitation in his actions as he turned away from the door and turned his attention to Jamison, who had his back turned. Stepping over to the smaller male, he grabbed him by the arm and tugged him towards the bed, shoving him down onto it - though he wasn't too rough about it.

"Strip down," he demanded in a deep growl, and Jamison seemed more than happy to obey.

Eagerly grabbing at his shirt, Jamison yanked off the piece of clothing and tossed it aside, his excitement evident in his behavior. It had been so long since he'd found another man who had interests similar to his own, a man who was willing to do this kind of thing with him. He wasn't about to question this, though, and he finished undressing until he sat in only his under-shorts. This gave Mako a view of the male he hadn't seen before. A thin frame, yet there was still visible muscle tone, and he was riddled with scars.

But Mako cared only for the fact that he and Jamison were going to spent and satisfied by mid-day.


	11. Chapter 11

For a few long, drawn out moments, Mako simply stood there and took in the sight of the nearly-nude man before him. The smaller male was reclined on the bed, propped up on his elbows, quirking a brow up at Mako in confusion. It had been far too long since Mako had bedded anyone, especially another male. He had nothing against it, in fact he quite enjoyed bedding men, but Jamison was unlike any other. No doubt this experience would be one to remember, and he had every intention of ensuring that Jamison was going to be sore and bedridden for hours when he was finished.

"Come on, mate. We doin' this or not?" Jamison finally piped up, growing fairly impatient.

His hand had wandered down to the growing bulge in his shorts, having become excited just by the thought of what was going to happen. The same could be said for Mako, though. When he removed his coat and soon his shirt, Jamison could clearly see the large, straining bulge in his pants. It had been difficult enough to fit the thing in his mouth, Jamison knew it was going to be painful to begin with, but he didn't care. He wanted to be ruined by this man.

Jamison decided to take the first step by moving forward onto his hands and knees, crawling across the bed towards Mako. His hands reached forward to fondle the bulge in his pants, before he tugged them down and freed his large, erect cock from its bindings. Less than a day ago, he'd almost been able to take the whole thing into his mouth, yet he'd already forgotten just how large it was until now. Biting his bottom lip as he wrapped his hand around Mako's cock, unable to fully grasp it due to it's girth, and stroked him slowly. It enticed a deep breath from Mako, who growled quietly and soon motioned for Jamison to turn around, and he was more than happy to obey.

He could feel a hand reaching forward to his face, and soon a large finger was pressing against his lips. No doubt this was to lubricate his finger to allow penetration, yet the way Mako had decided to go about it was pleasantly erotic. Jamison was more than happy to take the digit into his mouth, closing his lips around it and sucking on it softly, coating it in saliva. All the while, Mako was standing behind him while he was on his hands and knees on the end of the bed; he could feel Mako's erect cock pressing against his rear, trying to press against him through his shorts. There was a gentle yet eager grinding against him, and he was more than happy to press back against it.

Pleasure and impatience was building between the two, and Mako seemed to be the first to fully act on it. Pulling his now wet finger from Jamison's mouth, he used his free hand to yank Jamison's shorts off of him and expose his rear, bringing his other hand back to press his saliva-coated middle finger against his hole. The smaller male rocked his hips back against Mako's hand, and soon his finger invaded him. With how large Mako's hands were, it came as no surprise that his fingers were fairly thick as well. The feeling of it caused Jamison to wince at first, before the tinge of pain soon turned to pleasure as Mako worked his finger deeper into him. Mako's goal was to stretch him just enough to take his cock, and he was fairly impatient about it.

For several minutes that's all Mako did, stretching him out and making him moan, especially when a second finger was added. There was still a tinge of pain, but combined with the pleasure, it seemed to be such a good pain. Jamison was soon flustered and fidgeting, lying face down on the bed while he kept his ass up in the air. One of his hands had moved back to eagerly grip at Mako's hand, muffling his sounds against the sheets beneath him. It didn't last much longer though, and Mako had soon pulled his hand away, which only made Jamison whine when he no longer felt anything inside of him. It was soon to be remedied and be even better, though - that much he knew when Mako took hold of his hip with one hand, drawing him closer to him.

"Come on, come on, don't keep me waiting!" Jamison whined impatiently.

"Relax or it's going to hurt." Mako warned.

"I know that.. but come on, fuck me!" he demanded.

Another predatory growl came from Mako, the same as earlier, and his free hand moved down to his thick, erect cock. The hand that held his hip kept him firmly held in place while he positioned his cock against Jamison's hole, and he probed it against him teasingly. While Jamison clawed at the sheets and impatiently tried to push his hips back, Mako gave him what he wanted after a moment. It was difficult to penetrate him at first, and God was he tight. A pained groan came from Jamison, followed by a whine, yet he still tried to push his hips back until Mako was eventually fully sheathed inside of him. Now both of Mako's hands had taken hold of his hips and pulled him back, grinding into him roughly. It would take a bit for Jamison to adjust to his size, yet he didn't seem to care for the pain or the ajdustment, he wanted to keep going. Rocking his hips back against Mako's grinding and cursing under his breath, urging him to keep going.

"Damnit, you're huge, mate!" Jamison grumbled.

"You wanted this," he grunted, giving him a short but quick thrust, which seemed to shut him up for now.

Following along with Jamison's grumbled pleas and cursing, Mako wasted no time in starting a steady rhythm of thrusts. His large hands were easily able to keep a firm hold of Jamison's slim hips, pulling him back into each thrust. There was such a satisfying feeling of fullness with Mako's cock buried within him like this, and he could feel it brushing against his prostate with each thrust. His own cock twitched and leaked pre-cum beneath him, and he clutched at the sheets as Mako fucked him. But this easy pace wasn't quite doing the trick for Mako; it wasn't long before he growled under his breath and his grip tightened as he picked up the pace. His thrusts became harder and he gained a little more speed, his breathing becoming more labored. With each thrust into Jamison, he pressed in deeply but didn't linger long before he pulled back to repeat the motion. It was evident that it was driving Jamison over the edge, because the smaller male had a hard time keeping his volume in check.

Drawing unwanted attention was the last thing they needed, not when things were just getting good.

The hand on Jamison's left hip moved up to his mouth again, and there was no hesitation in shoving two of his fingers into his mouth. Soon, the smaller male's sounds were muffled and he was eagerly sucking on the fingers in his mouth, while still pressing back to take each of Mako's rough thrusts. In his groin, and in Mako's, there was a growing heat and slight pressure, the tell tale sign that they were going to cum. Yet Jamison seemed to be a step ahead of Mako because it didn't take much more to drive him over the edge of bliss. Biting down softly on Mako's fingers as he moaned out, his body shuddered and his legs spasmed as he came and stained the sheets beneath him with fluid. Despite this, Mako kept hammering his hips into him relentlessly as he chased down his own orgasm; but it only took him a couple more minutes to reach cloud nine. In that span of time, however, Jamison's post-orgasm sensitivity was driving him up the wall as Mako continued.

Muffled against Mako's fingers came more curses and obscenities, nonsense that was awash in desperation and pleasure. Jamison knew the exact moment before Mako came inside of him, he heard the deep groan as he thrust into him as deeply as he could manage. He could have sworn there was a slight bulge in his belly, at least that's how it felt. Mako's cock twitched inside of him and swelled slightly for a few moments as he came, and there was such a copious amount like last time that he could feel the warm fluid flooding his insides. Arching his back and giving up a shaky moan as Mako held him there for a long moment, his cock pressed firmly against his sensitive prostate. He couldn't imagine being anywhere better in that moment.

For a short time, everything seemed to slow down and it was pure bliss between the two of them until they both came down from the high of pleasure. Mako didn't budge for a moment, but finally pulled free from Jamison's tight hole as his cock began to soften. Almost immediately Jamison could feel fluid leaking out of him and he shivered from the feeling, yet his hand wandered down to his abdomen as he already missed that full feeling.

"Christ, mate. We'll have to do this more often, won't we?" he gave a shaky chuckle as he rolled over onto his back with a wince, already feeling the soreness set in.

Mako sat down with a satisfied grunt and finally cracked a slight grin.

"We'll see." he said.


	12. Chapter 12

It was to be expected that the two hadn't remained awake for long after they'd had their lewd fun, since it had only added to their exhaustion. Yet Jamison's sleep was restless, disturbed by unsettling dreams that featured him still being stuck in that dungeon cell. In this dream, he'd been left to die; forgotten and starving, withering away for days. Was this the fate he would have met if he hadn't bribed Mako into helping him? Would he still be there right now, his stomach still grumbling for want of food that wouldn't come? He couldn't help wonder where Mako was in this dream, finding him absent from his post outside his cell. Perhaps he'd been dismissed from watching over him, likely because in this dream he was too weak to stand, let alone escape.

He'd been sprawled out on his half - or perhaps third - of the bed earlier, but now he was huddled up, fidgeting and breaking out in a cold sweat. Grumbling incoherent things under his breath and overall seeming fairly distressed, enough so that it woke Mako who had been lying completely still beside him. Cracking an eye open to peer over at the smaller male, Mako let out an irate sigh before he reached over to nudge the man awake. When this didn't work, he grabbed him by the shoulder and gently shook him until Jamison came to with a startled gasp and finally opened his eyes. Looking up at Mako bewildered for a moment, he glanced around to realize that the dream had been just that - a dream.

"Don't ask," he grumbled, wiping the sweat from his face with the sheets.

"Wasn't going to." Mako grunted.

"Well how nice of ya'." he huffed.

"You just said don't ask." he glowered over at him.

"Wouldn't have hurt to try anyway," Jamison protested. "But yeah, yeah. Thanks for wakin' me up, I guess. Must've been the stress from the escape." he shrugged.

"Then go back to sleep if you're fine." he mumbled, rolling over onto his side and turning his back to Jamison.

"I think I'll just.. stay awake. Maybe get me a drink downstairs in the tavern." He shook his head, climbing out of bed only to realize he was rather sore from the waist down. "Christ ya' really did a number on me," he huffed.

"And I'll do it again if you don't shut up." Mako growled.

While Jamison failed to see how that would be a punishment per se, he got the point. Pulling on his clothing since both of them were still nude and rubbing the back of his neck as he snatched a few coins from his well-hidden stash, as well as the key to their room; stashing the coins and key in his pocket for now.

On the ground level in the tavern, it was fairly quiet with it being mid-day. It was evident to Jamison that he'd only slept a few hours, but he wasn't exactly ready to go back to sleep after the dream he'd had. Running a hand through his messy hair as he took a seat at the tavern bar, where the bartender had been cleaning out the tankards and mugs. It was an older man, maybe in his early fifties, and looked like he'd seen his fair share of the world and battle. His mostly gray hair with touches of brunet, a few scars over his face and more severe ones on his arms and hands. Dull blue eyes that looked like they'd seen a lot in their time.

Jamison didn't bother the man with small talk or questions, but he was careful with how much he spent to avoid drawing attention. He mostly bought mediocre ale that would sufficiently booze him up and take the edge off, cheer him up a bit before he went back upstairs to his grumpy 'partner.' And maybe, just maybe, he could get fucked senseless into that bed one more time before they set off again. Though now that he thought about it, he honestly didn't know where they were even going - or at least where he was doing. Mako would of course make his way to the nearest coast and set off for home on the first ship out, and he'd probably forget about Jamison after that.

These thoughts seemed to only drive Jamison to drink a bit more, before he finally called it good after a couple hours had passed and he'd all but inhaled the food he'd bought. But before he could turn around and head back upstairs when Mako found him himself, and immediately pulled him off to the side away from the bar.

"We have to go. There are a few guards from back home who are here in town, I spotted them out the window." he explained quietly.

"And just when I was starting to enjoy myself, too." Jamison huffed, hurrying back upstairs with Mako to grab their things and disappear before they could be found.

"How many did ya' see?" he asked.

"Only two so far. Looks like they came into town together. Went to the south end of town, which means the road further north will be clear." Mako explained, grabbing what few belongings he had brought with him while Jamison grabbed his larger bag and the satchel full of his valuables.

They both knew that it wouldn't be long before the two guards came poking around the tavern to ask about them, so they handed off their room key to innkeeper and left. Ensuring they kept themselves concealed but no suspicious looking, they walked out of the tavern and made their way northward through town. But the thought did occur to Jamison that maybe that's what his dream was about; maybe he'd been caught again and was left to die. Maybe Mako wasn't there because he too had been imprisoned, or maybe even executed. Grimacing at the thought as they hurried through town, he tried to brush the thought aside and focus on not getting caught. For now, they were in the clear, but who knew how long this man-hunt would go on?

Neither of them wanted to find out.


	13. Chapter 13

There was an adrenaline rush that came with fleeing through town to avoid the patrol, a sense of excitement in knowing that they were attempting to outrun the law. Mako was surprisingly quick for his size and seemed to have no difficulty in keeping up with Jamison, but then again they weren't going too fast to avoid attracting attention and suspicion. The last thing they needed was for someone to tip off the patrol and alert them to the direction they were going, especially since they were given the opening to head north; heading north from here was the quickest route to head to the nearest coastline, with only a few more towns along the way.

"Where we headed to from here, anyway?" Jamison asked.

"Dornwich. Bigger and more populated, smaller chance of us being noticed." Mako grunted.

"Ain't that the place with honeyed ale?" he grinned.

"Probably." he shrugged.

"Oi, I know what I'm doin' then. Let's hurry it up, mate." he said, picking up the pace a bit as they neared the edge of town.

So far so good for going unnoticed, but that soon came to an end when they got outside of town. There was another patrol on the north road, and there was no way they'd go unnoticed. Mako was too easy to recognize by his size, and these men were his former comrades. It would be easy to figure out who the tall and skinny figure next to him was once they'd recognized Mako, and they were left with two choices: they could turn back into town and hopefully lose them, but also risk running into the other patrol; or they could make a break for it and head into the nearby woods and possibly lose them there.

While the patrol of three men pointed out the two and muttered amongst one another for a moment, Mako immediately turned and shoved Jamison away from the road towards the woods.

"Move, now!" he demanded quietly.

The speed that Mako picked up was impressive, though Jamison honestly shouldn't have been that surprised since he'd experienced the man's stamina firsthand. But he wasted little time on thinking back to their fun at the inn, and took off across the field towards the woods. As soon as they did this, though, it only confirmed who they were to the patrol. Jamison really wasn't sure how they were going to lose the men in the woods, there were three of them and they were each able-bodied, but he knew that he sure as Hell wasn't going to give up and get caught.

"What are we gonna do in the woods?! They'll be able to keep up with us!" Jamison hissed.

"We'll pick them off, just be quiet and go!" Mako growled, pushing him along again.

As much as Jamison wanted to question the man's judgement and plan, he had to admit that he had nothing better that he could come up with. Soon they broke through the trees and headed into the thicker part of the woods, to either find a spot to hide out or find a vantage point where they could pick off the patrol. Jamison didn't want to kill anyone unless he absolutely had to but he didn't know about Mako, who knew what the man was capable of? For all he knew, Mako had been wanting to kill these idiots for quite some time now.

"Over here," Mako said, grabbing Jamison by the arm and pulling him towards a section of heavily clustered trees where they could hide.

They'd had only a few moments to duck into cover before the patrol came through, and Mako had already picked up a large rock off the ground. Jamison kept an eye out while Mako stood back, watching as the three men muttered a few things about which direction each would take, before one of them headed towards them. For now, the two of them remained hidden among the cluster of trees, watching through small gaps in the branches and leaves as the man approached.

Once the man passed the trees and stood with his back facing them, he stood no chance.

In all honesty, Jamison had expected Mako to bludgeon the man with the large stone in his hand, but instead he made it quick. He stepped forward just a little and swung from the side, bashing the man upside the head with the stone. But there had been just enough force behind it to knock the man out cold with a minor wound to the side of his head; Mako then grabbed the man by his ankles and dragged him out of view, covering him with a few downed branches and dead leaves.

"Let's go, hurry. The other two will be here for a while." he said, ushering Jamison along back towards the main road.

For now, the two of them were in the clear. The man that Mako had knocked out would be unconscious for at least a couple hours, and the other two would still be searching for them in the woods during that time. They stood in the egde of the trees for a few moments to ensure that no one else was on the road before they made their way back to the road. This time they had adopted a brisk pace, not running or jogging, but also not walking at a leisurely pace. That situation had been too close of a call for their liking, and they knew they couldn't let it happen again. Neither of them wanted to get caught and face the consequences that would await them because they knew that they'd both be executed at this point.


	14. Chapter 14

By the time the two of them had finally gotten a safe distance away, at least what they considered safe, they were exhausted from running. Jamison was fit enough to be able to run like this, but he didn't do it often. As for Mako, well, he was a very large man. It was easy to see that he was exhausted as well, and while Jamison wanted to head to the next town, Mako stopped him from pressing on.

"C'mon, mate! If we're not quick, they'll catch up to us." Jamison protested.

"If we head to another tavern, that's exactly where they're going to look." Mako growled.

As reluctant as Jamison was to accept that answer, he knew that Mako was right. It would be too obvious if they just high-tailed it to the next tavern, they'd be found in no time. After some grumbled complaining under his breath about missing out on the honeyed ale, Jamison put his pack on the ground to check their supplies. Altogether they had a couple blankets, as well as food and water. Camping outside wouldn't be comfortable but it would ensure their continued freedom.

"Alright, fine. We'll go sleep on the bloody ground." Jamison huffed, heading off into the woods with his large friend after picking up his bag again.

It didn't take long for the two of them to get everything set up, each of them having made a makeshift bed in the grass with a small firepit dug into the ground nearby. Naturally it was Jamison who had lit the fire, he couldn't resist, but he also had the tools to do it. He sat there for a good ten minutes, lighting the spark and coaxing the fire to life with dead grass and twigs until it was large enough for a few logs. Sitting back and admiring his handywork while Mako simply sat in the grass, silent as he watched the fire. Jamison quirked a brow over at the man, watching him for a moment.

"Are you bored?" he asked with a chuckle. "An' here I thought you could sit around doin' nothing for hours and not care." he quipped.

"Wish I had a book," he grunted. "Sounds better than staring at this fire."

"Of all things to do, you want to read?" he scoffed. "Mate I think I have somethin' a bit better for ya'." Jamison grinned.

"What is it?" Mako asked, narrowing his eyes suspiciously at Jamison.

Jamison didn't answer the question, at least not with words. Instead, he stood up from crouching by the fire and walked over to Mako, motioning for the suspiciously glaring man to lean back. Mako did as he asked, leaning back on his elbows and waiting to see what the smaller male would do. Suspicion soon turning to subtle excitement when he felt Jamison's hands undoing his pants, freeing his girthy cock from his clothing. Mako now realized what Jamison's idea of curing his boredom was, and while reading a book still sounded nice, he certainly wouldn't object to this.

"Christ mate, I almost forgot how big ya' are." Jamison grinned. But he wasted no time in getting the lower half of his own clothing aside, haphazardly pulling off his pants and underwear, tossing them aside as he settled himself on his knees between Mako's legs.

With one hand, Jamison took hold of Mako's cock and gave it some much-wanted attention. Stroking him to full firmness and bringing his hand up to tease the head of it with his thumb, earning a pleased grunt from the man. The immediate reaction brought a sly grin to Jamison's face before he popped two of his own fingers into his mouth to lubricate them with saliva, knowing that he'd have to prepare himself this time with the position that Mako was in. Not that he had a problem with that, of course, since he knew exactly how to find his own sweet spots. He reached back to his ass and eagerly pressed his two fingers into himself, though it didn't distract him from tending to Mako.

While Jamison eased his head down onto Mako's cock, the larger man had placed his hand on the back of his head and kept himself propped up on one elbow. Just watching Jamison like this made his cock twitch, but feeling his mouth wrapped around his him only added to the feeling. Jamison was skilled with his mouth, there was no denying this, but Mako wanted more. He tangled his fingers in Jamison's hair, taking a gentle but firm grip of his messy blond locks. After only a short time of treating Mako with his mouth, having been stretching himself with his fingers the entire time, Mako finally tugged him upward by his hair.

Jamison licked his lips with a grin when he realized what Mako wanted, the man didn't even have to say anything to him - he knew exactly what to do. Mako had already shown his prowess in the bedroom when he had left Jamison a sore mess back at the tavern. But now it was Jamison's turn to show his skill, crawling up into Mako's lap and straddling his hips. Large hands soon coming up to grab his hips as he angled his ass to press himself against Mako's eager cock, causing the man to buck his hips up slightly. Despite not being as prepped as he wanted to be, Jamison wasn't going to waste time and leave the man waiting.

As Jamison eased himself down onto Mako's thick, twitching cock, he gave up a moan and bit his bottom lip. There was a small amount of pain that came with it but it didn't bother Jamison in the slightest, in fact he almost enjoyed it. He pressed himself down all the way down until ass pressed down against Mako's legs, letting out a soft moan from the satisfying 'full' feeling that came from it. All the while Mako had kept a firm grip on his hips, helping to dictate a pace as the smaller male began moving in a quick, steadt rhythm. His own cock twitched against Mako's large stomach, pre-cum already dribbling out as he angled his hips to allow Mako's girth to brush over his prostate.

As satisfying as it was for Mako to feel Jamison riding his cock, and to watch him doing it as well, it just wasn't enough for the man. Jamison was soon shoved over onto his back with a surprised grunt, while Mako rose up from reclining on the ground to suddenly hovering over him. Looking up in surprise from his new position of lying flat on his back in the grass, his hips held a couple inches off the ground as Mako began plowing into him without mercy. The sounds that came out of Jamison would have woken up the guests at any tavern, since he didn't bother holding back this time. Between moans and pants to catch his breath, he goaded Mako on and begged for more - which Mako happily gave. The smaller male was entirely at his mercy, and both of them were loving it.

With one hand eagerly stroking his own cock, Jamison kept his legs spread wide for Mako to rail him. But at this rate it wasn't long before Jamison just couldn't restrain himself anymore, shuddering and letting out a breathy moan as he came. His fluids pooled up over his stomach while Mako continued without relent, but Jamison could feel Mako twitching inside of him and knew that the big guy wouldn't last much longer. Rolling his hips in Mako's hands and against his hips, Mako soon groaned as he shoved himself into Jamison as deep as he could manage when he finally came. Jamison felt that familiar warmth flooding his insides and shivered from the feeling, all the while trying to catch his breath. By the end, both of them were left tired and sweating, and Jamison was especially in need of a bath now.

"Think there's a river or somethin' nearby?" Jamison finally asked, Mako's cock still buried in him.

"Only one way to find out." Mako grunted, finally pulling free of Jamison's tight insides.

Jamison managed to clean his fluids off of himself and could already feel his lower half becoming sore, but paid it no mind as the two stood up and walked a short distance away from the fire. Listening closely for the sounds of water, and soon hearing what they wanted. Setting off in that direction to clean up before they tried to sleep, knowing they would have to skip a couple towns to avoid detection. It would be a long journey tomorrow, to say the least.


	15. Chapter 15

After the two of them had cleaned up in a nearby stream and returned to camp, the skies had gradually grayed over. The clouds were easy to see even in the darkness of nightfall, and it was an easy guess that it would rain. Looking up at the sky with a slight scowl, Jamison settled into his makeshift bed and buried himself under one of his thin blankets. The last thing he wanted was to be woken up by drops of water falling on his face in the dead of night. Mako was already dead to the world a short distance away, snoring quietly while lying flat on his back.

"Cheeky bastard can sleep through anythin'." Jamison grumbled, rolling over onto his side as the small fire crackled quietly nearby.

In all honesty, Jamison wasn't sure what was keeping him awake. Normally he was quick to fall asleep and stay that way, but his mind was swirling with thoughts of what they were going to do now. Eventually he managed to push his concerns aside just enough to drift off into sleep for the time being, shortly before a soft rainfall started above them. It didn't remain soft for long, though. Soon the fire had died underneath the barrage of heavy raindrops while thunder rumbled through the sky, gradually getting louder.

Mako slept through it just as Jamison expected but that didn't last. The both of them were startled by a sudden flash, brighter than staring straight at the sun, and something sparked directly above Jamison. A deafening crack of thunder followed soon after and Jamison cringed beneath his blanket, from both the spark above him and the sound. But there was another crack - something other than thunder - and Jamison frantically tried to roll away as a huge branch came plummeting down towards him from the tree he has been lying below. The blankets he had burrowed under ended up being his downfall, though. He wasn't able to get completely out of the way before the branch came crashing down to the ground, landing on top of his right arm.

The pained yell that came from the male was enough to startle Mako to the point of bolting up to his feet, running over to see what had happened. Jamison was screaming obscenities and yelling in pain as he tugged at his arm in a panic, but it only made things worse for him. He could feel his limb being crushed beneath the branch and he could feel the spikes that remained of broken off sticks digging into his skin. He knew he was bleeding when he felt something wet spreading over his skin, and it certainly didn't help the panic that had already set in. Staring at his trapped arm in horror,  he caught glimpses of the blood and couldn't help but start screaming again as he yanked his arm - resulting only in even more pain.

"Quit pulling it!" Mako snapped, trying to keep the smaller male still while he looked for a spot to get his hands under the branch.

"Just hold still, and quit screaming." he growled, managing to dig his hands under the branch on either side of Jamison's crushed arm. With a few careful attempts at lifting and rolling it off, he was finally able to get one good lift and toss it away from Jamison's arm.

But upon seeing the damage that had been done, they both knew that it wasn't good. It was evident that his forearm was broken in a couple different places, and his arm was bleeding out from the puncture wounds. Jamison could only lay there and stare at his arm in horror, trying to move his fingers but he just couldn't do it. Thankfully, his adrenaline had kicked in and dulled portion of the pain, but it was still excruciating; it felt like his skin was on fire, like his bones were trying to dig their way out of his arm. Bringing his undamaged, shaking hand to cover his eyes as a sob escaped him, leaving his arm laying across the grass as it continued to bleed.

"Just.. just hold still. Don't move it." Mako said quietly as he stood walked over to their small supply of firewood.

From his time serving in the guard back in their former hometown, he had been taught the basics for treating injuries. There wasn't much more he could do aside from trying to make a splint with what few supplies they had. Digging through both of their bags, Mako soon found a small stash of bandages and wrapped up Jamison's arm with just enough tightness to apply pressure and stop the bleeding. All the while, Jamison was muffling a few pained and frightened sobs as Mako did what he could. With a few thick, longer sticks and some twine that Jamison kept for his contraptions, he was able to make a decent enough splint for his arm. It would have to do since he didn't dare try to reset the bone himself, lest he make the damage worse. Not only that, but he didn't want to listen to Jamison's horrific screaming anymore than he already had, it made him cringe hearing the pain in his voice.

"I-I can't.. I can't feel my hand.." Jamison mumbled.

"You'll be fine. We just have to get to the nearest town, they'll have someone who can help." he insisted, grabbing Jamison by his other arm and helping him up to his feet.

Jamison's hand wandered to his broken, bleeding right arm and cringed from the pain, immediately withdrawing his hand. They had only slept for maybe three or four hours, but it would have to do for now. Mako grabbed a majority of their things, including Jamison's larger pack, but of course the smaller male insisted on still carrying the satchel that contained his money and supplies. Mako could see out of the corner of his eye that Jamison was trembling as they started walking back towards the main road. His right arm hung limply at his side, secured in it's splint for the time being. They would have to walk for a few more hours before they reached the next town, and while being wanted fugitives would make things complicated, they both knew that Jamison needed medical help that was beyond what Mako could provide. In the meantime, Jamison would just have to deal with the pain as best he could.


	16. Chapter 16

For nearly two days the pair had gone in search of someone who could better treat Jamison's severely injured arm. They had tried the two villages that were nearest to them, but they were both small and without someone who was skilled with medicine. The most they had been able to accomplish was buying more bandages and cleaning his flesh wounds with fresh water. What good was it doing, though? Mako hadn't been able to reset the bone and the wounds looked aggravated, the skin around them reddened and his arm had become slightly swollen. The splint seemed to be doing nothing more than keeping Jamison from moving his arm and making it worse, but it wasn't helping either.

Redness and swelling weren't the only new symptoms, either. The bruising had progressively gotten worse where the bones had broken, and his hand was starting to become discolored. Starting from his fingertips and slowly moving up his hand, the skin was darkening and Jamison had lost feeling in them. His arm hung limply by his side, bandaged and secured in a new splint. For now the two resided in a small tavern and had seen no sign of their pursuers, though Mako was certain they wouldn't have the time nor number of men to come venturing out this far in search of them.

Jamison sat on the large bed that the two would be sharing again and seemed sort of.. off, at least from Mako's point of view. Normally it was difficult to get the man to shut up, but Jamison hadn't said much throughout the day - save for complaining about his arm. Right now, though, he just looked tired. The way he sat there, just staring off into space, it was cause for concern. Yet Mako had found himself questioning _why_ he was concerned. Why did he care about Jamison's injuries? He wouldn't even be here if not for Jamison. He wouldn't be stuck in a tavern, nursing the man's injuries while he sat around. Maybe he was doing this to keep Jamison around, to help him recover and be useful again. Maybe it was the pleasure that Jamison provided without strings attached. Whatever it was, Mako pushed these questions aside for now.

"Is your arm still hurting?" Mako asked.

"Yeah, but.. I don't feel too well, mate. Lost more feeling in me arm again. Can't move my hand." he finally said.

"You need to eat." Mako grunted, bringing his pack over to him. But Jamison only grimaced at the mention of eating, shaking his head a little.

"Won't be keepin' it down for long. And I don't think ya' want to clean that up." he grinned slightly before lying back on the bed. "Just lay down, ya' cheeky shit. I need me beauty rest, and so do you." he quipped, resting his head back on one of the pillows.

"Tomorrow we can get you help. Man who runs the tavern said there's someone who helps the injured and sick here in town." Mako said, plopping down onto the bed beside Jamison.

"Yeah, an' I bet it'll cost me a pretty sum to get his help." Jamison huffed.

"You have plenty to spend. Now shut up and go to sleep." Mako grunted.

Jamison squinted over at the large man next to him, trying to think of a few more obscenities to say before giving up on the idea. Grimacing after a moment as he brought his hand to his stomach, the tinges of nausea still present. Mako wasn't aware of just how bad Jamison's condition was getting, seeing as how Jamison hadn't exactly been open about it. Throughout the day he had been plagued by nausea, a low fever, and fatigue. Mako knew only of his loss of feeling in his hand and the discoloration of his fingers.

Sleep was of little relief for Jamison at this point, despite how tired he had been. Tossing and turning for well over an hour, disturbed by strange fever dreams as he huddled up underneath the blanket. But his restlessness affected not only him but also Mako who lay beside him, having been sound asleep until a short while ago. Turning himself over to face Jamison, wondering if the man was awake with how much he was moving, only to find the clearly ill man shivering beside him. His face twisted in pain and discomfort as he lay there curled up, having broken out into a cold sweat and dampened the linen sheets beneath him.

Upon closer examination of what Mako knew to be the source of this illness, he found that Jamison's fingers were becoming a black-ish shade of purple and his nails had become dark as well. This discoloration was only spreading further up his arm, providing little contrast against the dark bruising from his broken bones. At this point he knew that Jamison couldn't wait until the morning to get medical help, he needed it now.

"Let's go, we can't waste time." he grunted, sitting himself up and walking to the other side of the bed where he carefully lifted the smaller, lightweight male out of the bed.

Carried bridal style and still covered in a blanket, Jamison was hauled downstairs to the main room of the tavern where a tired looking bar-keep was cleaning mugs - clearly startled when Mako came barrelling in carrying the man he'd arrived with.

"What in all Hell is wrong with him?!" the man asked.

"I don't have time, just tell me where the doctor is!" Mako growled.

"Alright, alright!" he hissed, setting the two mugs aside that he had been cleaning. "You're looking for Geoffrey. Lives in the big cottage just outside the town, with the willow tree out front." he explained.

No time was wasted in thanking the man for his assistance or even asking anymore questions about this Geoffrey man. Time was too valuable to care about who the man was or about waking him in the dead of night, Mako only cared that the man could help Jamison. Clutching the shivering, sweating man against his torso, Mako rushed out of the tavern and made the short trip to the outside of town. The cottage itself was easy to find, and he could see candelight through the windows. Geoffrey was awake, or so he hoped.

"Who's there? I hear your footsteps! Awfully loud for someone poking around in the dead of night!" Came a voice from the now open front door. "Show yourself before I call for the guards." he demanded. In the doorway stood an older man with graying hair, a well-kept beard covering his chin, jaw, and upper lip. A notable scar going across his right cheek, from just below his eye down to his jawline.

There was no hesitation for Mako to step forward into the dim light coming out of the house, and Geoffrey quickly realized his purpose for being there. Narrowing his eyes for a moment as he observed the two - seeing the condition of Jamison even in the dim light - and quickly stepping aside for Mako to bring him inside.

"Lay him on the floor while I grab my supplies, and make sure the blanket is beneath him." Geoffrey instructed, digging through a nearby cabinet and retrieving a satchel while Mako laid Jamison on the floor as he was told.

When Geoffrey turned to face them again he immediately caught sight of Jamison's mangled arm, twisting his face a bit before he promptly laid out several candles around them to give him decent lighting. A cold, damp rag was laid over Jamison's forehead - who still hadn't woken up despite everything - and Geoffrey carefully removed the splint from Jamison's arm along with the bandages.

There was a long, tense silence as Geoffrey closely examined Jamison's arm before he finally spoke.

"I can tell you now that he won't be able to keep his arm." he sighed, gently placing two fingers just beneath Jamison's elbow. "I will have to remove the limb from this point down. The flesh is dying, that much is clear by his hand turning black. I have seen this kind of infection before, and it can very rarely be treated without proper timing." he explained.

Mako was shocked at the very least, looking down at the still unconscious yet distressed Jamison, and then to his arm. Losing a limb was the last thing he expected to happen, and he knew the risks that came with it. Jamison wasn't even awake to hear what had to be done to him, he couldn't agree or disagree to the procedure. The decision fell on Mako himself to let Geoffrey proceed and most likely save Jamison's life, or he could refuse and Jamison would likely have a miserable few days before the infection took him.

With prolonged hesitance and a couple failed attempts to wake Jamison, Mako finally gave a reluctant nod to the doctor.


	17. Chapter 17

**( Warning: This chapter is fairly graphic. I didn't go into as much detail as planned, but it may still make people a bit squeamish. )**

  
What took place that night was something that Mako never wanted to repeat, the things he witnessed during the procedure.

Geoffrey had acknowledged that Mako wasn't exactly certified to help him with this, but he was the only person who could at this time of night. Mako was tasked only with keeping Jamison held down in the event that he woke, and to try to keep him quiet as he wouldn't exactly be unfazed by the removal of his arm. Other precautions were taken to hopefully prevent such a crisis, though. Ether was kept on hand by Geoffrey to use an anaesthetic, and though Jamison was already passed out, a rag soaked in the sweet-smelling chemical was held over his nose and mouth to prolong his unsconsciousness.

"What are his chances of surviving this?" Mako finally asked, while Geoffrey pulled out a thin, razer-sharp blade that was shaped like a strange knife from his bag of tools.

"As it stands right now, your friend here has a half-and-half chance of surviving. So long as he doesn't wake and panic, then the blood loss should be controllable. A tourniquet will be used to slow the blood flow to his arm while I cut down to the bone. The flesh will be cauterized before I go through the bone.. If you are squeamish, I would suggest averting your gaze." Geoffrey explained.

The explanation of the process did it no justice. It barely prepared Mako for what he saw, and on several occasions he did have to look away. Jamison's arm had been tied tightly several inches above his elbow, the tourniquet that Geoffrey had told him about. The blade that he used had gone through the flesh as easily as a warm knife through butter, and the process of cutting down to the bone all the way around his arm had taken several, painfully long minutes. One of the candles had been used to cauterize the wound and stop the bleeding after enough of the flesh had been cleared away from the bone. The blanket beneath Jamison was soaked in blood as well as Geoffrey's hands; but watching Geoffrey use a bone-saw to finish the removal of Jamison's limb was almost too much for him.

Mako was grateful on many levels that Jamison had not woken up, despite the occasional flinch or whimper that came from him. It could have been much worse... he didn't want to think about what would have happened if Jamison hadn't stayed unconscious. He didn't want to imagine the screaming and the panic; he didn't want to have to hold him down while Geoffrey did this to him. It had taken hours to ensure that everything was done correctly and humanely, and Geoffrey used every resource he had to take preemptive measures against furture infection in what remained of Jamison's arm by the end. A little less than half of Jamison's right arm now remained, having had it amputated about an inch above his elbow. Mako sat there, still in shock, having absent-mindedly grabbed hold of Jamison's other hand earlier on and Jamison still had a vice grip on him.

When everything was said and done, Jamison's arm had been thoroughly cauterized and treated with an herbal smelling poultice; it was now wrapped securely in several layers of bandages.

"I will.. dispose of the limb and the blanket. It's best if he doesn't see any of this when he wakes." Geoffrey finally broke the silence, securely wrapping the amputated arm in a few layers of black cloth before picking it up.

Now left alone with Jamison, Mako wasn't sure what to do. What _could_ he do? What would he _say_ when Jamison woke up?

_'Oh, sorry. The doctor had to remove your arm, but don't worry, you're still alive at least!_ ' Mako thought. That would go over so well...

He wasn't sure where Geoffrey had taken Jamison's arm, but he could smell another fire from outside and soon the smell of something burning followed. It certainly didn't take a genius to know what Geoffrey was doing outside, the method he was using to dispose of the limb. For nearly ten minutes Mako was left alone with his thoughts and the still unconscious Jamison until Geoffrey returned.

"I will send you with more bandages and a few bottles of the poultice I used, along with something for the pain. Change the bandages daily and apply a new coat of the poultice to prevent further infection and help with the healing process." Geoffrey explained, cleaning up his tools and sanitizing them with alcohol before putting them away.

"What do I do when he wakes up?" Mako asked.

"There isn't much you can do, truthfully. Just makes sure he doesn't move around too much or tear off the bandages if he panics. There will be trauma, there is doubt. Losing a limb isn't something you can simply take in stride, and it will take time for him to adjust to day-to-day life. He'll be relying on you for assistance." he explained, handing over a small satchel that had the supplies he spoke of.

"Now, take him home and let him rest. Put a cold rag on his head and the fever will fade." Geoffrey said, watching as Mako carefully picked Jamison up off the floor. He hadn't said a word about wanting to be paid for his work, and Mako didn't ask before he left.

Whatever now lie in store for them was unclear for Mako, as this was only going to add on to the challenges they would be facing to keep their freedom.


	18. Chapter 18

After leaving Geoffrey's home, the walk back to the tavern was grueling; not because Jamison was difficult to carry, in fact he was very light, but because of the decision that Mako had just made for him. Jamison was going to wake up missing an arm, and Mako was the one who had allowed Geoffrey to cut it off. How was he going to explain that? _'Sorry, you were going to die so I let him chop it off.'_ The thought made Mako physically cringe as he carried Jamison into the still empty tavern, save for the barkeep.

"The hell happened to him? Man doesn't look well," the barkeep piped up.

"He's.. sick. He'll be all right." Mako said quietly, not sticking around long enough to answer more questions. He carefully adjusted Jamison in his arms and vanished up the stairs to the second floor, heading straight for their room.

Once inside, Mako closed the door and just barely managed to lock it with two of his fingers while trying to make sure he didn't push Jamison up against the door. Thankfully the younger male was still out cold for now, but Mako could still see the signs of pain on his face. His eyebrows were furled and every now and then his nose or mouth would twitch, but there wasn't much Mako could do to ease the pain. For the time being all he could do was carefully lay Jamison in the bed and tuck him under the blankets, deliberately hiding what remained of his arm under the covers. When Jamison woke, he didn't want that to be the first thing he saw. There would be no easy way to do this, nothing he did or said would make it better, but he could at least try to tell Jamison what happened before he saw it and freaked out.

As far as he could tell, though, Jamison could wake up at any time. He needed to get his story straight, figure out what the hell he was going to tell him when he woke up. He would have to confess that he allowed Geoffrey to do this, that he didn't want to just sit and watch Jamison _die_ of an infection.

 _'You had a fever and wouldn't wake up, so I took you to Geoffrey's and he said he had to cut your arm off,_ ' Mako recited in his head, grunting and shaking his head after a moment. He needed to be... gentle about this, but he didn't know how. Words had never been his strong suit, he'd always been a quiet man who allowed his actions to speak for him, but now he needed to learn and he needed to do it quickly.

 _'You were shivering and had a fever, I couldn't wake you up.. I picked you up and took you to Geoffrey's, he's the-'_ his thought was cut off when he heard pained grumbling. Mako froze, watching as Jamison seemed to be stirring awake in bed.

"Mmhh.. What the hell happened? Why does my arm hurt so much..?" Jamison mumbled, opening his eyes after a moment. Mako made a quick lurch for the bed, placing his hand over the blankets to hold them in place over Jamison's missing arm.

Jamison looked up at him in confusion. "What's got ya so on edge, mate? You're lookin' as pale as me bare arse," he huffed.

"Jamison I need to tell you something," Mako managed, almost breathlessly.

"Oi knock off this 'Jamison' crap, just call me Jamie." He replied.

 _"Jamie_ ," Mako sighed deeply, taking a moment before he spoke up again. "Something happened... while you were asleep. I woke up and you were shivering and sweating, you had a bad fever. You wouldn't wake up, and I knew you needed help." he explained slowly. "I took you to see the doctor, the one we were supposed to go see later. Geoffrey said your arm was too infected and that he needed to.. that he..." Mako couldnt finish, but Jamison was catching on.

Any sense or humor or normalcy that Jamison had before suddenly vanished, replaced only by a look of growing concern and horror as he realized that something was wrong - very wrong. He realized that while his right arm hurt, it was only his upper arm up to his shoulder and that he couldnt feel the rest of it. Mako watched as he tried to move his arm underneath the blanket and Jamison could see that not even half of it was still there when he moved it. Jamison's breathing became ragged and everything else faded into the background as he pushed Mako's hand away and pulled the blankets back.

Jamison's eyes grew huge and filled with tears immediately as he saw what had become of his limb, seeing the bandages wrapped around what remained. He took several long, shaky breaths in the place of sobs, grabbing hold of his arm with his remaining hand, which was trembling badly.

  
"M-My arm... My arm, what happened to my arm..?" he mumbled, but that was all Mako was able to understand before Jamison completely broke down. Jamison started yelling and bawling incoherently about his arm, asking what had happened and where it had gone. There was little Mako could do save for keeping him from getting out of bed.

Mako had seen a lot of bad things in his life, done a lot of bad things too, but this? Nothing like this. What was he supposed to do..? How could he possibly help Jamison when he couldn't even imagine what he was feeling? Not to mention the guilt he felt for having made this decision for him to let Geoffrey do this.

"Jamie, please, stop yelling, we can-" Mako tried.

"We can _what_?!" Jamison snapped, flashes of anger coming through in the midst of his grief and horror. "H-He cut off my _arm_ , my arm is gone, its... it's gone!" he cried. The way Jamison looked at him cut deep. The anger in his eyes, the _blame_ , Jamison had to have figured out by now that Mako had a role in this.

"You let him take me fuckin' arm! You didn't stop him from cuttin' it off!" he shouted, yanking himself away from Mako and stumbling out of bed.

"You would have died if I hadn't!" Mako pleaded. "The infection would have killed you in a matter of days! Geoffrey said it would be slow and agonizing, it would spread further up your arm and it would rot." he explained, trying to get through to him.

"What am I supposed to do with no fuckin' arm, mate?!" he sobbed slightly as he yelled. "You.. you sat there, and you watched him cut off my arm.. and now what am I supposed to do? I can't work, I can't write, I can't create anything.." his voice had quieted down to a pained mumble.

For an agonizingly long moment, the two stood there in silence while Jamison held his arm and his thoughts raced. But then he grabbed the blanket from the bed, wrapped it around himself to hide his arm, and turned away.

"Jamie where are you going?" Mako asked.

"Away from you." he growled, clutching the blanket around himself with his left hand and slamming the door behind him as he left the room. Mako was left in silence, left to his thoughts on what had transpired over the last several hours. Left to figure out what the hell he was going to do to fix this, if he could.


	19. Chapter 19

After Jamison left the room and took off to who-knew-where, Mako simply stood there staring at the door. Should he go after him? Or should he stay here and simply wait? Perhaps the latter was the best option... Jamison would need time to come to terms with this and to figure out where to go from here. But his words echoed in Mako's mind, and he couldn't get that look out of his thoughts. 'Away from you.' Jamison had said it with such anger, and the look in his eyes had matched. Guilt was all he could feel after what had transpired. Yet there was something else... Something that was muddled and silenced by the guilt, something that questioned why he should even care.

Jamison would have died if not for him. He would have just laid in bed and died of an infection as his arm started to rot if Mako hadn't rushed him to the doctor in the middle of the night. Despite the truth of this thought, Mako took no comfort in it. Everything had started out so easy... He would help Jamison get far enough way to have his freedom, in exchange for a few sexual favors and a sum of gold. After that he would be on his way home, back to Aotearoa. But some part of him rejected the idea of simply accepting this and leaving, rejected the idea of _abandoning_ Jamison.

While Mako stayed behind in the room having a moral dilemma, Jamison had left the tavern altogether with the blanket wrapped around him. Fully intent on getting drunk for a while, Jamison had decided to find another place to do it in case Mako came looking for him. Naturally, he didn't want to be found any time soon and the sooner he could drink himself into a stupor, the better. So off he went, shuffling through town in nothing more than a pair of tattered linen pants with a pocket full of coins. There just happened to be another tavern across town, smaller and more run down - a place for the poor and desperate to get a drink. It was a perfect place for him at the moment.

With the way he was dressed and how he carried himself, Jamison didn't exactly stand out in this part of town. He kept the blanket clutched around his shoulders with his remaining hand, hiding what was left of his right arm. The ground was rough beneath his bare feet but it wasn't anything he hadn't dealt with before. Up ahead the tavern came into view, a dilapidated place with a sign that was barely legible anymore. It was almost barren when he pushed his way through the doors using his shoulder, glancing around to see if any prying eyes had fallen upon him before he made his way to the bar. Without a word he simply dug into his pocket and fished out the money he had, pushing the coins across the worn bartop. Clearly the look on his face had been enough for the barkeep to know what he wanted - the strongest ale they had, which was brought to him at the secluded table he had picked out. The amount of money he had handed over got him three pints of what this place passed as ale, but it was good enough for him.

Within the span of only 20 minutes, the first two and a half pints were downed before Jamison simpy lay his head on the table in silence, holding what remained of his arm. A decision that had saved his life would now alter his future forever, and part of him wished the infection had taken him so he wouldn't have to face that kind of future. His right hand was his dominant one and thus would impact day-to-day to life; anything from writing or eating, to tinkering with his contraptions and creating new schematics. _Some_ of his arm was left, so perhaps not all hope was lost, but Jamison would still have to relearn everyday activities involving his hands - well, hand.

Deep down Jamison knew that Mako had done this to save his life, to prevent him from losing his life in a slow and agonizing manner. But he wasn't ready to admit this. Right now all he felt was anger and grief, but even that was starting to devolve into a sense of numbness. For over an hour Jamison had just sat there with his head on the table, staring blankly across the tavern. It had become a subject of concern for the barkeep, who had come to check on him and see if he wanted more ale - which Jamison silently declined. The first two and a half pints had been enough to get him drunk and dull his pain, both physical and emotional. The empty glasses had been removed from the table and Jamison was left alone, even the two other patrons stopped glancing in his direction. No one had seen the cause of his being upset, but no one wanted to ask either.

Another hour passed. Jamison was nearing the point of almost falling asleep on the table, despite the lack of comfort that this positioin provided for him. By now, Mako felt that Jamison had had enough time to find a way to relieve some of the stress and had come looking for him; soon finding him in the the tavern and quietly informing the barkeep that he would take him back to the inn. No words were exhcnaged when Mako approached and carefully pulled Jamison into a sitting up position; it made it easier for him to carefully lift him up out of the chair bridal style, ensuring the blanket remained around him in the process before he carried him out. The trip back to the inn had been silent, not a single complaint or angry insult from Jamison. In his inebriated state he looked like a broken man. His gaze didn't focus on anything, his expression showed nothing but a subtle touch of sorrow. It was painful to see him this way. Never in his lifetime did Mako think he would grow to care about anyone after he left home, but Jamison had grown on him. The smaller male was crazy, certainly, but he had his quirks and his good sides. No shortage of interesting hobbies and fascinations. No to mention the fact that the man was a firebrand in bed. But now? He looked empty, depleted of everything that had made him who he was. It would take time and a lot of work, but Mako knew Jamison could adjust and become himself again.

A sound finally came from Jamison when he was laid in the bed they shared, a sound originating from finally being put into a more comfortable position. Mako was hoping for him to say something, anything, but he didn't. Jamison lay there under the blankets with his back facing Mako as he climbed into bed beside him, but Mako didn't want to push his luck. He had to be happy with the fact that he had least found Jamison drunk and safe in another tavern, rather than having lost him indefinitely. Whatever lay in store for them the following day was unknown, but Mako didn't want to think about it too much. They both needed rest, Jamison especially.


End file.
